


Only Love Can Hurt Like This (your kisses burn into my skin)

by hopeinyourheart



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angst, Big bro dejan, Heartbreak, Kissing, Liverpool F.C., M/M, New York City, Protective Virgil, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-22 05:57:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15575265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeinyourheart/pseuds/hopeinyourheart
Summary: “What did you wish for?” Emre asks as they continue walking through the park.“Well if I tell you it won't work will it.”or Loris meets Emre a month after his transfer.





	Only Love Can Hurt Like This (your kisses burn into my skin)

**Author's Note:**

> -all new york representation in this fic is wrong, i have never been there and the only places i know are from movies and tv shows, so if you've come here for an education of new york i suggest you leave, if not feel free to contunie  
> -also this is set in new york because liverpool and juventus were just there for preseason, idk if juve were in new york for a game but lfc were so we're going with it  
> -theres also smut in this, skip past it if you want  
> -so i wrote alla this and then checked the prompts thing randomly and the quote killed me and just summed this all up, idk if i covered it but i am stealing it....... cus its a good quote okk

 

 _You love him,_  
_you do,_  
_and here’s the miracle:_  
_he loves you too._  
_You are allowed_  
_to lick off the colour from his lips_  
_to listen to the hymns in his pulse_  
_to bask in the sunlight of his voice_

 

 

 

  **Meet me outside the movie theatre in 2 hours**

Loris reads the text over and over again for ten minutes, scanning his eyes over the nine words until they turn fuzzy and he has to blink.

“What you staring at?” Gini asks him in passing not really waiting for an answer. Loris locks his phone and takes in the sight of the busy New York streets from the back of the open rickshaw.

It lasts for all of a second before he pulls his phone out of his pocket and unlocks it again; reopening the messenger app and reading the words again.

“Loris,” Virgil nudges him.

“Huh?”

“We’re getting off, come on.” Loris blinks and climbs down off the open taxi, following behind the lads to regroup with the rest of the team. He hadn't realised how much time he had spent being lost in the simplicity of a text. He hadn't taken a single notice of the trip around times square.

Some of the lads start taking pictures with fans but Loris stands on the side lines just watching. He signs a few shirts distractedly and takes a few selfies with them but the weight of his own phone sits heavily in his back pocket.

Shaqiri and Mo start having a small kick about in front of a huge growing crowd and Loris wonders how far away the movie theatre actually is. It can’t be too long from here seeing as they were in central New York but Loris also didn’t have a clue where anything was in New York and didn’t fancy wondering off alone.

He wasn’t going anyway so it wasn’t like it mattered.

“Loris what’s up with you man? You're so distracted. You’ve looked at your phone like ten times in a row with this weird constipated look. What’s up with that?” Loris looks up at Virgil realising that he had indeed been staring at his phone and the same text for the past thirty minutes.

“It’s nothing,” Loris shrugs.

“Sure,” Virgil deadpans. “Come on, is it someone special?”

“It’s no one.”

“Why are you staring at your phone then?”

Loris just shrugs and when Virgil reaches for his phone he reverts backwards so quickly he stumbles over the curb.

Virgil raises his eyebrow at him, “you sure it’s nothing? Loris comes on man spill, or stop looking like someone killed your dog and you're offended at the sight of their name.”

“I don’t look like that.”

“You look worse.” Virgil tell him, shrugging.

Loris shoves his hands in his pockets and waits until the lads stop signing things and make their way back towards them so they can move on, maybe get some food. He was starving but as he stands there he realises it was taking forever and his stomach was starting to hurt from the hunger.

“We ever leaving?” he asks Virgil who is taking a video of the surroundings.

Virgil shrugs, “what can I say man they love Mo. If it was up to them we'd never leave.”

“You think we'll leave in the next two hours?”

“Why, you got something on.”

Loris shakes his head whilst Virgil narrows his eyes at him. “Just hungry and tired, we’ve been out all day.”

“We've had longer days mate.”

“Are you not hungry.”

“I’ll survive. Why do we specifically need to leave in the next two hours?”

“We don’t.”

“You just asked.”

“In general.”

Virgil just hums not believing a word of what he was saying. Loris rocks back on his heels and wills himself not to check his phone again and make sure he read those words right. He closes his eyes briefly against the sun and takes a deep breath.

“It’s Emre,” he blurts in a half-broken whisper. Loris can feel the glare of Virgil's stare against the side of his head but he doesn’t look at him. Alberto is getting Milner to take a picture of him against the city scape and after the third attempt of Alberto not being happy with it, Milner looks like he's going to throw the phone down the nearest gutter. Loris would feel for him but most times he's Alberto in this situation.

“Emre?” Virgil asks. Loris just nods once and bites the inside of his cheek. “Emre who left you, Emre?”

“Emre who left the club because he wanted something else Emre,” Loris corrects. He still hasn’t looked at the expression on Virgil's face but his tone was harsh and Loris doesn’t want the judgement.

“What does he want?” Virgil asks instead. Loris doesn’t answer for a while, not until Virgil nudges against him and makes him tell him.

“He wants to meet.”

“Here?”

“Outside the movie theatre.” Virgil nods once and when Loris looks at him he doesn’t look pleased. His jaw was clenched and his eyes are narrow and Loris would find it endearing but it was also Emre. His Emre who wouldn’t have left if Loris had asked and Loris wouldn’t ask.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing yet.” His t-shirt was sticking to his skin under the blaring sun. Loris looks at him squinting against the sun behind his sun glasses almost pleading for approval, but Loris knows it’s because he wants someone to tell him what to do. Dejan would understand but Dejan wasn’t here and Loris doesn’t want to bother him right now.

“You spoken to Dejan?” Virgil asks reading his mind. Loris shakes his head. “Well what do you think he would say?”

At that point the team walks over and declares they are all going to a pizza joint for lunch. Loris' stomach growls at the mention of food and he follows behind them slowly down the block but Virgil doesn’t let him out of his sight.

“Do you want to talk to Dejan,” Virgil asks.

Loris does but he also doesn’t; he sighs and shakes his head. The pizza is good and he's an hour away from potentially meeting Emre outside a building he has no clue how to get too. "Its your choice," Virgil tells him resting his elbows on the table. The team was talking amongst themselves but Loris couldn’t stop thinking.

“Dejan would tell me to go because Dejan would go himself.”

“Don’t go because of Dejan, Loris, he hurt you.”

“I’m not,” Loris insists. And then softly, “he didn’t.”

“But he's not here.”

“Would you have stayed behind for someone else?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Virgil says too sharply. Loris looks at the table.

“It’s- it’s complicated.” he didn’t expect or even want Emre to stay back for him. He was happy for him.

“In what way Loris, he left. Just forget about him.”

“I can't.”

“You can, there's plenty of people that appreciate you ok.” Loris scoffs, “it’s true Loris don’t let him walk all over you.”

“I’m not.”

“Have you even spoken to him since he left.” Loris shakes his head no and feels his heart sink into his chest. It had been a month and there hadn't been a word from Emre and now he suddenly wanted to meet.

“Where even is the movie theatre?” he asks instead.

“You’re seriously not going, are you?” Loris shrugs. “Loris,” Virgil says, “don’t.”

“I need too, you don’t- it was two years Virgil. I loved him. I-I love him,” Loris corrects. He runs his fingers over the cracks in the deep oak wood of the table. Loris hears Virgil sigh and then, “call Dejan,” he says.

Loris looks up at him, “why?”

“Because he knows you both better than I do so call him ok or I'm tailing you.”

“Its Emre, Virg, not a mass murderer.”

“I don't care I barely knew him so I will ok.”

“He's not-he's not a bad person,” Loris doesn’t know why he says it or why it’s important that Virgil understands that Emre isn't some evil monster that left him behind and has now come back begging for forgiveness. They spoke for hours and weeks and months about this choice; Emre included him in it all. At the airport Emre clung to him on his way out but Loris couldn’t get in touch with him. Every time he tried the pain in chest seared and the empty bed made him feel like he was choking. So, he cut of contact but Loris loves him and being a couple streets away from him made him ache.

“You love him?" Virgil asks. Loris nods his head.

“Speak to Dejan and then I'll walk with you to the movie theatre.” Loris barely manages to eat a thing as his heart pounds against his ribcage.

*

Once they get back to the hotel Loris stands on the balcony and calls Dejan.

“Yo Loris what’s up?” Dejan screams down the line. Loris pulls the phone away from his ear.

“Bout to visit the docs for a blown eardrum by you,” he tells him.

“Missed that dumb ass sarcasm. Do you miss me?”

“Not really.”

“Bullshit I'm irresistible.”

Loris laughs at that. “Don’t know about that.”

“What you doing?” he asks.

“Sunbathing. You?”

“In the hotel room.”

“Whats up Loris?” Dejan asks seriously.

There was no use in lying to him because he knew. He always just knew. He was like the big brother Loris never had.

“Emre text. Said to meet him in two hours an hour ago.”

“Ok.”

“I didn't respond,” he says, voice small. He watches the busyness of the New York traffic, watches bikers whizz by, hears the honking of car horns and the frantic rush of people going about their busy lives.

“Did you want to?”

“I don't know.”

“You do though.”

“When you coming back?” Loris asks instead.

“A week, you’ll survive, besides thought you didn't miss me.”

“I don't.”

“He's still the same person Loris. He's still the Emre we know. The one you fell in love with. He just lives in another country and wears different colours but he still worries about you and loves you back. He hasn’t changed Loris. He wants to see you.”

"What if he's found someone else?” 

“He hasn't got anyone else,” Dejan insists

"You don't know that"

"I do though. He's crazy about you."

“Fuck I blanked him Dejan.”

“He'll understand. Go meet him Loris he's not going to be any different. He's still our Emre, red or not.”

Loris considers his words and he was right. But Dejan always was when it came to Emre. He was like Emre's resident big brother and Loris knew Dejan loves him.

“You spoken to him?”

“Not recently but he misses you. Now go you’ve got 15 minutes to get there. Tell him he owes me a fifa win.” With that he puts down the phone.

Loris stares at the text wondering if he should text back or just leave Emre wondering. He still wasn’t sure whether he should go but everything in him screamed at him that it was Emre even though his brain was telling him it was a bad idea.

He decides against texting and spreads his arms out over the balcony railing. A breeze of wind swirls around him, cooling him down and at that he walks back into the hotel room. Loris catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror and changes his t-shirt three times before there's a knock on the door.

“You going then,” Virgil wonders when he enters.

Loris shrugs and nods his head at the same time. “It’s just Emre,” he says and he doesn’t know if he convincing Virgil or himself.

“I know,” Virgil says, “stop being so nervous then. Why are we still standing here?”

“I don’t look nice.”

“You look fine,” Virgil says, exasperated.

“I don’t,” Loris says peeling off yet another shirt and putting another one on.

“Did you bring your entire wardrobe or what? Loris if you change again I'm going to smack you. You look fine. It’s a t-shirt it doesn’t even matter.”

Loris frowns at himself in the mirror, fidgeting with the hem of the shirt; twisting it and pulling it so it adjusted to his body. “Since when do you care. For all I know you think you look perfect in everything so what’s changed?”

Loris continues frowning in the mirror. “Seriously Loris stop stalling. He isn't going to care about a t-shirt so get your shit together or we're staying here and ordering room service and a movie ok.”

Loris looks at his shoes then. “I- he's my best friend.”

“Why are you so nervous then?”

Loris shrugs. “Maybe he's found someone better in his new flashy Italian life.”

“You, my friend, sound ridiculous. You think he's going to throw two years of your love down the drain. I don’t know him and he seems like an idiot for leaving you but you won't know anything unless you go see him ok.”

“We haven't been in contact with each other for a whole month and its just-it's weird.”

“Well you’ll only know when you go see him so come on,” and with that Virgil walks out the door and Loris trails slowly behind him.

*

“I’m guessing you spoke to Dejan then?” Virgil asks as they walk down the block away from the hotel. “What did he say?”

“Said Emre's still the same person and he misses me whether he's here or not.” Virgil nods at that. If anyone knew about Emre, it was Dejan.

Loris fidgets with his hands in his pockets the rest of the way there and when they get to the movie theatre, ten minutes later Loris has the sudden urge to run. “Fuck what if he doesn’t come.”

“He will.”

“How do you know. I didn’t even text him back.”

“I just do ok. I’m tall I can see into the fates trust me.” Loris laughs at that for the first time all day.

Virgil shares a smile with him as they wait for Emre at the outside tables of a nearby café. Loris drums his fingers against the metal table and bounces his leg. “You didn’t have to come you know.”

“And let you wonder New York alone.”

“I’m a grown man I've been here before.”

“Dejan wouldn’t have let you come alone and if he finds out I didn’t come with you, I'm certain he’d try to kill me. He would fail but he would try and besides he text me that your heartbroken dumb ass was my responsibility till he gets back.”

“I don’t need a baby sitter.”

“You’ve been moping all day. All week. All month actually Loris.”

He was right. Loris just shrugs and wonders why Emre hasn’t turned up yet until the sun is blocked and he looks up to find Emre staring right at him.

Virgil stands up then, chair scraping against the concrete floor making Loris' ears ring. “Emre,” he says with hostility, holding his hand out for him to shake.

“Virgil,” Emre says back.

“He has to be back for nine, we have a _team_ movie night.” He puts emphasis on the word 'team' and Loris wants to hide a little.

“Got it,” Emre says. Virgil glares at him a little.

“If he isn't I'll call the police.” Loris doesn’t doubt that he would.

“It’s alright Virg, we'll just be around here.” Virgil nods and walks off back to the hotel.

“Let’s go,” Emre says.

“What?”

“Come on.”

Loris gets up and follows him. So maybe he lied to Virgil about being around here but how was he to know. Emre was dressed in black shorts and a white t-shirt that clung to his features well; Loris stares at the curve of his bum as he walks behind him down the street.

“Where we going?” Loris asks after a while of walking in awkward silence.

“Central park,” Emre tells him as they walk into the subway and gets them to two tickets.

“Do you have any idea how the subway actually works?” Loris asks him as they stand in the carriage.

“Nope,” Emre shakes his head and Loris laughs at him. It felt easy, like they hadn't been apart without any contact for the past month. They get out and walk towards the park where Emre gets him an ice-cream and for a while they just walk quietly through the park. Loris had never been here before.

“Why were you so late?” Loris asks, bumping into his side slightly.

“Team wouldn’t let me leave.”

“How did you get out then?”

“Snuck out the back door when they were all focused on the 20th game of fifa.”

“Where we going.” Loris asks as they walk around the fountain. “You ever throw a penny in and make a wish.”

“Never,” Emre tells him, “you?”

“No, give me a penny.”

“You don’t have a penny?”

“Give me a penny cheapskate. How does a millionaire not have a penny?”

“You’re also a millionaire,” Emre says handing him a bronze coin.

“Make one too, come on,” Loris demands closing his eyes, whispering under his breath and throwing the penny into the fountain. When he looks at Emre he was still stood there with the penny in his hand. “Come on dude.”

“This is dumb.”

“Everything’s dumb so just do it ok.”

“Fine,” Emre says and closes his eyes. The penny clinks against the bottom of the fountain, disturbing the water briefly before it settles like nothing touched it.

“What did you wish for?” Emre asks as they continue walking through the park.

“Well if I tell you it won't work will it.” Emre hums in agreement as they walk out of the park.

*

Loris follows Emre into the back alley of a building and through a fire exit door and up some stairs. “Why the secrecy?” Loris asks as they emerge onto the floor of a hotel and walk down the corridor.

“I really wasn’t allowed to leave the hotel or the team so if I get caught I'll get fined or benched or something.”

“For leaving a hotel on a free day.” Emre simply nods and stops at one of the doors at the furthest end of the hallway. “So, no one knows you’ve snuck out and brought me here? How do they not know?”

“Sami text asking where I was and I told him I was crashing in my hotel room.”

“And they didn’t check?”

“Well if they did I was sleeping,” Emre says with a shrug as they walk into the room. The light from the huge windows brightens the entire room. He walks towards them and gets a view of the city; the park looked enormous from up here. Loris is sure he can see every inch of it as the sun glares through the window panes.

“This place is so fucking fancy,” Loris says, sweeping his eyes over the near-by buildings and in the distance a view of the slow-moving river that was crowded with boats.

“Where are you staying?” Loris lists of the hotel distractedly. It definitely wasn’t as fancy as Emre's five -star hotel room. Emre hands him a beer to which Loris raises an eyebrow. “Room service,” Emre says simply.

“You even allowed to drink?”

“Nope but if you don’t say anything how are they going to know.” Loris likes his logic. He was so nervous to come here and see him again but everything felt like Emre had never left and they hadn't been apart for a month with radio silence. He takes a sip of beer glancing at Emre out of the corner of his eye.

“Want to play fifa?”

“Thought you were sick of it.”

Emre shrugs, “yeah but I haven’t beat your ass in a while and I missed it.”

 _Maybe you shouldn’t have left_ then the voice in the back of Loris' head says. He shakes it away and sits down on the couch. Emre sits down beside him but there's too much space between them; before he would have sat right against Loris' side, his heat sinking into him heavy and warm beside him but now it felt like there was an ocean between them. And there literally was. Loris shakes his thoughts away and focuses on the game.

*

"Your shit mate," Emre exclaims.

Loris shoots him daggers as the replay of the goals runs on the tv. "Turn it off Em, stop gloating."

"Awwww, are you hurt Loris? Does it hurt that I'm better than you?" Emre mocks, giggling.

"Are you a fucking child or something?" Loris grumbles, annoyed at Emre for winning on FIFA.

"Stop being bitter." Emre tells him as he leans back against the couch, putting his hands behind the head.

"Go away." Loris says petulant, sulking.

"This is my hotel room," Emre drawls, relaxed with his feet up on the table.

"Whatever," Loris murmurs, throwing the control onto the table. If there was one thing he didn’t want to put up with, it was a gloating Emre; it was the last thing he needed. Emre lets out one of his throaty laughs and Loris wants to punch his very kissable face. He sulks when Emre hands him a beer and purposely doesn’t look at him.

"Are you mad at me Lo," Emre says in a lilting, teasing voice. Loris takes a sip of his beer because he isn't going to smile right now not when his pride is wounded and Emre is being a little shit.

"Lo-ris," Emre sing songs.

Loris keeps his eyes on the window and watches the clouds move slowly. It was early evening and watching the day change from this high up was peaceful. He gets up and walks towards the windows leaning against them again. He doesn’t know why he came here or what Emre wanted but he had missed this, the easiness of them being together with no barriers, nothing keeping them apart. But it was all different now and Loris doesn’t know where he stands.

He feels hands on his hipbones. He shudders at the touch; his eyes half closing and finds himself instinctively leaning back into the warmth of Emre's chest but he stops himself and closes his eyes tightly until the beer bottle is being pulled out of his hands and Emre wraps his arms around his waist pulling Loris closer to him. Loris wants to give in to all of it but a part of him screams not to. To not fall into Emre's arms because he knew it would be even harder to leave and not see him again for months.

“Emre,” he breathes.

“Hmmm,” his voice vibrates right against the skin of his neck. Loris leans his head to the side so Emre can kiss against the line of it. He moans slightly before pulling away and turning around. He takes a step back to breathe a little and calm his heart but Emre steps right into his space again crowding him against the window.

“What are we doing?”

“Kissing?”

Loris sighs. “We haven’t spoken for a month. You didn’t call, not even a text Emre. He pauses, “I can't do this.”

Emre leans his forehead against Loris' and closes his eyes slightly, “I thought we were broken up.”

“Then what am I doing here.”

“I don’t know,” Emre says standing up straight. Loris misses him instantly. “I’m sorry I guess I thought it was easier. But it isn't Loris. I don’t want it to be like this.”

Loris pulls him back and puts his hands on Emre's hips. They hadn't spoken about them when Emre said he was leaving. Loris didn’t want to pressure him into making a decision so they just assumed they’d break up.

“I didn’t want to break up Loris.”

“I didn’t want to come here,” Loris says right after. He stares at his shoes and tightens his grip on the hem of Emre's t-shirt.

“Why?” Emre hooks his thumb under his chin to tilt his head up. “Do you not want to do this?”

“I do.” His words are full of uncertainty. “I- can we even do the whole long-distance thing? That’s why we broke up Emre and then you text me and sneak me into your hotel room like this is some movie scene and I have to leave again and when are we going to meet? How many times are you going to sneak me in and out of a hotel room? Is that all we are now because that isn't what I want. I thought about not coming all day because I didn’t want to do this again. I can't keep watching one of us leave and that’s all we're going to be?

“We're not.”

“It is Emre. No matter how hard we try one of us is going to be walking out of the door at the end of the day.”

“Then why did you come?” he asks too harshly.

“Cus I fucking missed you.” Emre bites his lip and shuts his eyes.

Loris doesn’t want to get back into this just for them to leave each other again. With their careers and never-ending football schedule and barely any breaks, Loris would never get to see him and it hurt. Watching Emre trying not cry, hurt. Leaving here later on was going to hurt. He can't do this every time. Even if he does get the chance.

He pulls Emre forward again by the nape of his neck and circles both arms around his neck. “I’m sorry,” he breathes right against his lips. “I shouldn’t have come,” but he doesn’t regret his decision even if it was painful.

“I shouldn’t have called you.” Loris rubs his thumb over the base of his neck before digging his nails in so as to not pull him forward and kiss him. He sees Emre clench his jaw and feels him clench his fists into the material of his t-shirt near his hips, pressing their foreheads closer together tightly. Loris feels the faintest brush of Emre’s lips against his own before Emre pulls away with a shaky breath and drops his head into Loris' neck.

Loris has the urge to slam his against the window and kiss the life out of him.

He had to leave in a couple of hours.

Behind them the sky was changing colour; purple and pinks filling the evening sky. The sun was reverting back behind the clouds but the day was still bright enough. Loris watches the clouds shift and feels Emre's breath against his neck.

“We can try,” Emre insists into his skin before standing up straight. They could, Loris knew that but it meant the possibility of one of them getting hurt but it was also Emre and Loris had lived one of the worst months of his life without him. The hope in his eyes gives Loris all the faith he needs and wants and he can't do anything but nod because trying was all they both had and could do.

The smile that lights up Emre's face nearly knocks him backward but Emre pulls him right against his chest and slots their lips together. Loris moans into his mouth when their tongues meet, wrapping his arms around Emre’s waist. He uses the two inches he has on Emre to lean over him and kiss him deeper and harder. Emre slides his fingers into his hair and tugs him impossibly closer. Loris slides a palm under his t-shirt and runs it down his spine, resting it on his lower back before sucking on Emre’s bottom lip.

Emre smiles against his lips, bringing a palm against his cheek to tilt Loris’ jaw slightly before licking into Loris’ mouth, pulling him down against him. Loris moans hotly when Emre licks against the roof of his mouth, the scrape of his teeth sending a jolt of pleasure through his spine.

Loris pulls away and buries his head in Emre's neck, placing kisses along the line of his neck and sucking at the base of his throat. Emre pushes him back against the couch and climbs onto his lap and just like that Loris loses all his control when Emre grinds down in his lap. Loris groans and clutches at his at his hips as Emre kisses along the line of his throat.

Emre pulls back and grins, “You still mad at me for beating you?” Loris narrows his eyes at him pulling him forward with a hand on his nape.

“Yeah,” he nods before pulling Emre’s bottom lip between his teeth before kissing him. He licks into Emre’s mouth groaning at the contact.

“Oh well, guess I'll just have to make it up to you then,” Emre whispers pulling his shirt over his head. Loris watches his muscles flex as he does so, tracing over the lines of his abdomen and chest, before raking his fingers over said lines feather lightly.

“And how are you gonna do that?” he asks whilst Emre tugs as his shirt to get it off.

“Dunno, I'll think of something.”

Loris giggles, swatting him in the chest, “well you better think fast because I’m super mad,” he says pulling him forward and kissing him again before Emre moves away and scrapes his teeth down Loris’ adam’s apple.

Grunting, Loris lifts them from the couch and over to the bed behind them crashing Emre's back against the bright white sheets and kissing him desperately, grinding against each other impatiently and needy as he sucks under Emre's ear, hands travelling up his torso, rubbing over one of Emre's nipples. He kisses quickly down his neck and his chest, down over Emre's stomach.

Emre grunts as Loris tries to tug his shorts down, looking up at him from under his lashes. The sight always drove Emre insane and Loris knew it. He tosses the pants aside and strokes a hand down Emre's cock once before travelling back up his body where Emre tugs at Loris' pants in desperation.

“Lube?”

“Suitcase.”

“Why did you bring lube. Did you plan this out?”

Emre shoves him off him and makes his way to get the lube. “Really Emre?” he asks admiring his ass. “A secret romantic.”

“Shut the fuck up. It was in here from our last holiday remember and we never took it out because someone doesn’t know how to unpack properly.”

“Well my incompetent unpacking has served us well so you can't complain,” Loris jests as Emre tosses the lube onto the sheets and then pulls a condom out too from the bottom of his washbag.

“You still leave condoms in your washbag?” Loris asks, insecurely. They were broken up for a month it was plenty of time for Emre to find anyone else and sleep with them. Emre doesn’t respond as he walks over and pulls him down against the sheets, kissing along his jawline.

“There hasn’t been anyone ok. It was from our last trip out and you told me to get one because your horny ass wanted to do it on that beach we went too and we fucked in the hotel room with the overview of the sea, remember but I took two and we only ended up using one. There’s only you Lo, stop worrying.”

Loris did remember that trip. It felt like the last time everything was normal and they were properly happy and Loris thought nothing could come between them. But football itself spilt them up and looking back it felt like a lifetime ago when in reality it was three months ago.

“I remember. We should go there again,” he says, ignoring the fact that they were unlikely to meet within the next three months or even longer. He didn’t care about any of it right now. Emre nods kissing him again. Loris pushes all his worries to the back of his mind and focuses on Emre’s lips and hands.

“Come on Em,” Loris pants against his throat.

“Give me a minute Lo,” Emre says back fishing for the lube amongst the sheets. Loris spreads his legs and tugs impatiently at Emre's shoulder. “So desperate,” Emre chuckles which earns him a smack on the head.

“You’re meant to be making it up to me remember,” Loris pouts.

“Yeah yeah,” Emre laughs uncapping the lube and circling his fingers around his rim before sliding them in and making Loris clutch at his hair and screw his eyes shut.

“Fuck,” he breathes, “Emre, fuck.”

Emre curls his fingers up making Loris tighten his grip in his hair. Emre spends a few minutes moving his fingers and watching Loris writhe against the sheets, moaning as Emre strokes before sucking at his throat hard enough to bruise, watching the blood rise to the surface and pool in colour, smirking at the sight.

“Shit Em come on,” Loris pants rocking back against his fingers.

“Come on what?” Emre asks innocently.

“Fuck...that’s not cute you know,” Loris says tugging at his hair.

“What’s not?”

“I’m going to punch you,” Loris tells him as Emre presses down and rubs harder making Loris whine high in his throat with his head tilted back against the pillow. "Emre shit-come on," Loris gasps, mouth parted around a moan.

Emre pulls his fingers out. Loris whines and tries to slow down his breathing, panting against the sheets. He hears the tear of a wrapper and then Emre’s sliding into him and butting his forehead against Loris’.

Emre rocks against him making Loris’ eyes roll back. He digs his fingers into the base of Emre’s neck. "Emre, Emre shit," Loris pants as the pleasure builds up, curling up the base of his spine as Emre grinds deeper and harder. He wraps his legs around Emre's waist, pulling him closer and grinding up towards Emre's abs, looking for friction as a garbled noise escapes the back of his throat.

“Shit,” he breathes pulling Emre forward for a kiss which is more panting against his mouth than an actual kiss. Emre's teeth catch on his bottom lip, biting down as he sucks them between his own, pulling strangled sounds from the back of Loris' throat. Loris scratches down his back, marking his skin and tightening his legs around Emre’s waist to pull him closer.

Emre wraps his hand around Loris' cock, stroking down and up once before Loris comes against Emre's abdomen with a keening and strained, "Em," tightening his grip on Emre's skin.

Emre rocks against him a few more times as Loris whimpers through the aftershocks: white hot and scraping as he claws at Emre shoulders. Emre bites down on Loris' collarbone, moaning into his skin. grunting, before he stills and pants against his neck.

They stay like that for a few moments; Emre with his forehead pressed to Loris’ chest right over his heart, while Loris slips his fingers back into his sweaty hair rubbing against his scalp in circular motions. "Shit," Loris says to the ceiling, feeling Emre chuckle against his heart which sends vibrations through his skin.

Loris wants to stay in this moment forever. He tightens his grip in Emre’s hair and locks his feet at the base of Emre’s spine and wills everything else to disappear. If he tries hard enough the only things that exist are this hotel room and the rise and fall of Emre in his arms. He continues rubbing circles in Emre’s hair and focuses on the flutter of eyelashes against his skin until Emre lifts himself off him slipping out and away from Loris.

Loris groans a little when Emre lowers his legs to the bed before he cleans them off but Loris misses that weight against him. He wants to pull Emre down against him and fall asleep right here just like so many times before. “That make it up to you?” Emre asks, tossing the towel on the floor before laying down beside Loris.

Loris shrugs, “could do with some work,” he says casually.

Emre grabs his head in a headlock and ruffles his hair before shoving him away, “who was the one begging me to be quicker?”

“Never begged asshole.”

Emre just shakes his head, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile. He tugs Loris closer with an arm around his neck, kissing him deeply as he smiled into it.

“We should shower,” he says pressing his lips against Loris’ in a closed mouth kiss before climbing off the bed and heading towards the shower, Loris trailing behind him.

*

After the shower, Loris redresses and checks the time. He had thirty minutes before he had to get back to the hotel. He sits on the couch and watches the sky darken slightly. An airplane disturbs the peace of the clouds, a flock of birds flies past the window. Emre enters the room with just a towel wrapped loosely around his waist; water droplets running down his abs and over the marks Loris left on his skin. The bruise at the base of his throat glistens from the water making it ever more prominent.

Loris wants to walk over and suck right over it again.

Instead he closes his eyes and listens to Emre rummage around the room.

He doesn’t want to have this conversation.

Emre sits down beside him in a pair of shorts and nothing else and it takes everything in Loris not to reach over and lick the drops of water from the line of his neck or run his hands over his damp hair or slot his face into his neck and breathe in the scent of him.

He clenches his fists tightly closed against his sides and stares out the window. “I have to leave,” he says towards the birds.

“Already?" Loris feels Emre reaching out for him.

“Don’t. Come on,” he pleads, voice cracking.

“I’ll walk you back.”

“No just stay here ok.” Loris wants him to come with him. Walk back into the hotel and into the team like nothing ever changed. Like he was still a part of them; still a red. Still part of their everyday happenings but he can't. Loris knows it’d be harder to watch him walk away from the hotel then to leave him here.

“We going to at least try?” Emre asks.

“Doesn’t this hurt. Knowing one of us has to walk away.”

“It’s not always going to be like that Loris.”

“Give me one time where it won't be like this Emre. It's always going to be hotel rooms and half day visits and five-minute phone calls before we're pulled away. I can't fly out to you for an evening and you can’t leave Italy for me and we won't have any time off together. We're more than that Emre, I need more than that; I need you, and when we don’t get it one of us is going to get hurt and I can't do that to you."

“We can try,” Emre says simply.

Loris deflates. If he looks at Emre now he'll cry and he won't leave but he has too because Emre had a different commitment and he had to go back to a sea of red and no matter what they did this wouldn’t work. “We can try,” he whispers back brokenly because it was Emre and Emre had hope and all Loris could do was give him a tiny bit of it. At least for the sanity of both of them.

He gets up then and forces himself to walk to the door. He stops before pulling it open and when he turns around Emre slots a hand into his hair and kisses him slowly and deeply and then harder. Loris splays his hand against his lower back savouring every second of it before Emre pulls back and lingers for a short while; just the brush of their lips before slotting their tongues together again and licking into his mouth.

Loris runs his fingers over Emre's torso committing the lines and shapes and movement to his memory. He pulls back and rests their foreheads together. Loris runs a hand over his hair and a thumb over the line of his jaw before brushing his fingers against his lips feeling the shudder of Emre's body against his own and he knows this is the last goodbye. The last kiss.

They didn’t do this before but it felt final. Emre presses his lips against his thumb once and then to the side of his lips and Loris straightens up and pulls the door open. He doesn’t look back because he then wouldn’t leave. He faintly hears Emre say, "Loris I l-," but he can't listen to it. He can't look at Emre break because he wouldn’t make it out of here so instead he counts his steps all the way down the stairs and through central park.

He doesn’t stop counting even when he's on the subway. He counts the light fixtures and then the people and every time the light flickers. He counts his steps back to the hotel and when he gets there he counts the buttons in the elevator up his room.

During the movie he counts and recounts the popcorn in his bowl and doesn’t hear or see a thing on the screen or notice Virgil's worried gaze on him the entire time. And when he finally makes it to bed he squeezes his eyes shut and sees Emre's hopeful expression. When he blinks his eyes open again his lashes are wet and the tears fall down the side of his face pooling behind his ears.

He texts Dejan through blurry vision that he was back and when he answers Dejan's call on the third ring he sobs down the line.

“Loris come on its ok.”

“I never told him I love him,” he hiccups.

“He knows Loris. Come on.” Loris pushes a hand against the left side of his chest in a childish attempt to push the pain away. He breathes slower as Dejan talks to him.

“He knows?” he asks, stupidly, voice hoarse.

“He knows,” Dejan reassures. Loris nods and puts the phone down before making his way to the balcony and looking out at the empty streets. For once the city was quiet, no honking horns or car engines, just the rustle of a plastic wrapper being tossed around by the wind.

He takes a deep breath and knows he would never visit this city again.

 

 _You love each other,_   _you do,_  
_and here’s the tragedy:_  
_it’s not enough._

 _You are allowed_  
_to watch the sun swallow him whole and burn him up_  
_to stain your fingers to the bone holding him together_  
_to count the constellations in his eyes as they blink out_

 _You are not allowed_  
_to save him._

**Author's Note:**

> this was just meant to be a small fic about them meeting up and being cute for the first time since emre transferred but i ruined it :)  
> thanks for reading, pls yell at me i deserve it and i'll appreciate it <3333


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